


here lies magic, (me and you)

by elfingrey_hui



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Roommates, pessimist wonwoo rambles, very character thoughts heavy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26507881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfingrey_hui/pseuds/elfingrey_hui
Summary: wonwoo is a magic doctor who likes to make depressing metaphors and secretly call junhui the moon. junhui is the sweetest gosh darn liar he’s ever met and it’s quite irritating.cue the mystery, the emotional difficulty, and restless attempts at pretending like we all know how love works.(note) strange updates at the complete mercy of the author
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo & Wen Jun Hui | Jun, Jeon Wonwoo/Wen Jun Hui | Jun
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	1. take my couch, dude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wonwoo meets junhui in an alley, choking on his lies. minghao is scared. and then he is miffed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lil warning for wonwoo doing his magic doctor thing. he gets a lil physical with a creature that also hurts jun. let me know if there's a better way to say this.  
> most importantly, thanks for being here ~

To start at page one, Wonwoo is a pitiful man with a big heart and large arms.

"A big heart? It seems endless to me."

Trouble finds him like a Cheshire Cat, wide smiles and with grabby hands. Pride can't be swallowed so easily but he finds it in his stomach everyday now.

"Oh? You're looking much better nowadays. You were all bones when we met !"

In a two room rundown apartment, the moon lives on his couch, cooks his food and hides his secrets. He keeps them close to his chest like a bomb prepared to go off for only one.

"You know, it's a lot easier to call me Jun ?"

Among dozens of nicknames and pet names, Wonwoo pronounces "Junhui" perfectly and pushes a steaming bun into the other’s face to halt that conversation.

(Wonwoo doesn't waste his time, contrary to his ability to use it on seemingly anything.

"Do you want my straw wrapper too ?")

Like the moon, Junhui carries his life's scars on his skin. Of all the things Wonwoo sees, those skin-deep and smile-wide traces are what shine the brightest.

Just like that night.

That was how they met on page one, Wonwoo dropping his groceries to stop Junhui from choking and dying on his own lies.

In a dark alley, a moonless sky, with only Minghao and his lamp and dozens of neighbors' lit windows, Wonwoo grabbed the inky black shadows lashing about and ripped them from his throat. Then, just as he was instructed, reached into Junhui's stomach with ashy blue hands trembling. He found it, the inky leech. It tried to squirm between his fingers so he sharpened his teeth and bit.

Down through its weak bones, he broke straight to its core with a growl to drown out the creature’s screaming.

_ Sweet. _ Too fucking sweet but Wonwoo choked it down anyway, letting the fire of his own stomach and tongue extuinguish every trace of those lies.

When it's eaten and the saccharine taste stops overloading his senses, he addresses Minghao. Back then, he was just a scared bystander, clutching his friend's unconscious body. Fear and disgust pierced his face in a way Wonwoo still remembers now, months apart.

But he held no qualms. 

Simply, he commanded the man to follow and carry his friend for further medical help.

(It was another night, Wonwoo picking his groceries off the dirty floor and letting pity take his hands.)

Back then, Junhui was a pitiful man placed in front of Wonwoo's path. He needed help and rest. He had friends who worried and were there.

Wonwoo was simply the gear to get the healing going. He considered it done.

The next morning, reading off doctor's orders, meeting those eyes, stopping and starting when they finally drift away, Wonwoo was exhausted as he asked for understanding.

Junhui nodded, still looking around. "Is this your bedroom?"

"Yes." He desperately wanted to sleep.

"You should take better care of yourself."

"That's this doctor's line." Wonwoo laid the doctor's note on the bedside table and stood. "Sleep if you need. Your friend is coming back later to pick you up."

Junhui's face fell quick. A quiet "Minghao" slipped from his lips.  _ Way too fast, _ he sprung to his feet, sweeping the covers off with a grin.

"Hey, you know- woah." He staggers.  _ Exhaustion, _ Wonwoo huffs as he steadied him immediately and pushed him by the shoulders back to the bed. 

"Wow, you're tall, aren't you?" Wonwoo's lips twitched. As if they weren't nearly equal in height. Junhui's hand went to Wonwoo's, still firmly keeping him seated. His shoulder rose in the action, mimicking his mouth as he spoke. "You know, I can cook for you, do some cleaning if you let me stay here."

Wonwoo forced away the urge to shove a jar of salt down his throat and glared intensely with the effort. Questions piled in his brain. He settled for slipping his hand away and standing back. 

"Is that something you can offer so easily?" _ And offend me so quickly? _

Junhui took the doctor's note and smiled with a teasing tone like he had been and will do so endlessly.

"Doctor's orders but letting me stay here for a while, I definitely wouldn't-" He trips a little, hiding his lips behind the paper but continues on the same way, "I wouldn't get those things again."

It's happened before. Multiple times. For a long time. 

When Wonwoo didn't answer like the brick he is, Junhui slouched and gripped the bedsheets under his hand.

"I can sleep on the floor, you know, out of the way-"

"I have a couch."

He's wearing one of Wonwoo's shirts. The neckline nearly drooped off his shoulder. Minghao had dressed him. Giving his bed up was fine but letting his sheets get covered in ink puke,  _ certainly not _ .

Upon receiving the oversized clothes, Minghao's fear had leapt right off his face, letting absolute judgement take over. The only nice shirts Wonwoo needed were formal. The kid could keep it to himself.

"Is that a yes?" Wonwoo stopped staring, settled back into Junhui's gaze, and nodded.

So ends page one, with Wonwoo claiming his "pitiful man" title once again. The moon shadows him, fluttering about constantly and never caring if it's day and he should be sleeping, or just relaxing elsewhere.

Page two is short. Minghao and Junhui argued in his bedroom while Wonwoo ate lunch on the couch he's about to give up indefinitely. He didn't hear most of it really. Their voices either rumbled through the walls or were too pitched to catch. Regardless, Minghao's confusion and concern were clear: 

"Are you really being serious about this?"

Junhui's reply was short and whimsical. Yet he left no room for conversation.

"I just need some time alone."

Minghao left the room disgruntled and introduced himself curtly.

Black hair, mullet, straightforward, judgemental, and kind. He had to look up to meet his eyes. Wonwoo's had “Minghao” down pat.

Minghao tried to leave quickly but hesitated at the door. By now, Wonwoo had put away his dishes, gotten a book, and had all the time in the world to dally on his couch. He let the man find his words and pierce them through however he liked.

It took him less than a minute, hand tight on the doorknob, head turned and eyes hard.

"Thank you for saving him." Wonwoo nodded. "Take care of him." He paused and then returned the warning ( _ threat? _ ) with as blank a face he could.

"I will."

Their next exchange is short, within the hour. Minghao brings Junhui's things. They're surprisingly little in number. Minghao shrugs. "It's what he asked for."

Junhui still needs rest ("Doctor's orders, he smirks when Wonwoo opens his mouth.) so he pinky promises he'll visit a lot.

Wonwoo isn't surprised by the gesture, just that they'd do so with him in their space. (And from the looks of Minghao's ears, he is too.) The sight of the childish gesture rooted an idea in Wonwoo's mind. Surely, salty lollipops were a thing? What were those- salt licks? Mineral deposits? They must be good ideas to pursue, seeing and predicting his new roommate to be large and in charge.

Junhui sleeps the rest of the day and night away with brief wakings to choke down medicine. Wonwoo spends the time with naps and work, enjoying the last respite before turning to page three:

_ Silent Desperation _

**Light** Reflected at the bottom of a well.

Endless clouds and a  **pink** sky  _ blinking _ through.

Why did Wonwoo let Junhui stay?

Because the man was right.

Wonwoo couldn't let such things surface again, regardless of who or what he had to do. Is it kindness? Guilt?

His salvation is these doctor's orders.  _ So pity him  _ who can do nothing else.

"So pitiful," Wonwoo remembers, gazing out the window of his kitchen. 

The moon is making its way to full once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha, grey go type type and cry
> 
> please let me know if i need to add any warnings. i'm very unfamiliar with tags.


	2. i stepped in your trap so you step in mine thank you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they have one talk. and then they have another talk. junhui calls wonwoo a teddy bear at some point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for being here ~  
> (ง•` ^ '•)ง♡

"Ok.. ok, wait..." Junhui takes a long sip of his soda, exhaling sharply and then laying his hands out on the table. He narrows his eyebrows and pats his hand against the table with each of his next words. "Explain it again slowly."

"You attract magic." Wonwoo cuts himself off there, pushing up his glasses. Somewhere between his literary cells and his mouth, the explanations seem to die. They leave him staring at expectant and sparkling irises.

His job, whatever anyone calls it, doesn't require explanations or _whys_ . Only children ever asked and even then, he's pretty sure they don't prod enough to ask about everything like Junhui always does. His ears still ring with traces of last night's petty argument over spicy food and _types of spices. Junhui, not everyone has an opinion on the ratio between taste and pain._

People didn't _trust_ him for _why_ but that he's their only option to bring relief _after._

But this isn't the time or place to struggle. It's his job and he needs to prepare himself for types that look everywhere, left, right, (to the sky, even at the ground) and back.

So he tries. "You have a core inside you that's empty. This attracts leeches." 

Wonwoo taps again at his messy sketch on the napkin. _Please look at this and not me._ In all its inked glory, the leech that'd exploded out of Junhui is dissected with scribbles, lines, and descriptions. 

(Wonwoo is only slightly impressed with himself, having cramped the most important info into this small and flimsy rectangle.)

"Leeches convert whatever they can into magic, particularly the strongest beliefs or thoughts of that person." Wonwoo doesn't believe it truly makes sense out his mouth but he's here, they're here. He'll deal with it. 

Junhui looks completely serious, folding and refolding a napkin in his hands as he stares at him. Wonwoo's hand trembles again under the table, so he crosses his arms and leans back in his chair.

"So," Junhui licks his lips, "it wouldn't be a problem if my core wasn't empty."

"Sort of. Yes." Wonwoo shakes his head. "Magic is troublesome. You give it one thing and it wants to indulge in another."

Junhui must be feeling _really_ comfortable if he insists on having this conversation.

It's been four weeks since the ending of page two.

In that time, Junhui has:

  1. Found a job while following Wonwoo around his appointments and errands.
  2. Made a palace of his couch with blankets stacked high, knickknacks decorated, and books folded into the top of the cushions against the wall. Adding a cheap lamp from a shop's final sale, absolute _paradise._
  3. And completely took over the kitchen, throwing out Wonwoo's own cooked leftovers. He especially demanded replacements for his cookware.



(Wonwoo most certainly acquiesced, although not without a silent _no_ to amp the quiet frustration laid beneath Junhui's face.

He watched the other flounder before he finally realized Wonwoo's dead sense of humour.

"You are... awful." Junhui hid his face, ears blazing.)

Today, Junhui has weaseled his way into buying lunch for the two of them. Proudly displaying his paycheck, he called for a day off of home cooking.

So they sit with the sun in the sky, a breeze, and hot food on the table. 

It's a nice change from the apartment, artificial light combatting the two far windows of natural light. Only a simple air con to replace the air.

(It doesn't matter how clean or how strange a roommate he now had. A home's a home.)

Wonwoo breathes in another deep breath of cool air and tries again.

"Say, inside of you is a sphere of potential." He doodles to himself, simple illustrations to keep his head here. He's distinctly aware of Junhui leaning to peek as long as he'll let him.

"Some people, they see it right away. Some don't but it still exists regardless, right?" Junhui nods, answering the rhetorical with bright eyes.

"Magic is fickle. It demands without asking. Every core demands to be seen and since you didn't answer, something else did." Junhui looks at Wonwoo's completed drawing. A stomach with a sphere at the center. He doesn't know what Junhui sees there, what a satisfied core looks like. Junhui picks at his shirt. ( _His_ shirt, as in stolen from Wonwoo's closet.)

"So, what.. it's.. like alive?"

Wonwoo considers that. Yes, it's alive. It's alive as any human and any animal that plays by the rules of life. Yet, truly he's asking, _"Is it like me?"_

"No, it's not." He takes the napkin away and breaks Junhui's concentration "It simply knows how to harness potential." _And it knows to not like dying._

"Magic is our modern day fire. We mold it however we like." Junhui looks up at that, a brief moment before he returns to the drawings. "You can burn it and do away with it all together."

Junhui props himself on his hand. "Have people done that before?"

"All the time." 

The world closes to an edge of Wonwoo's heartbeat. Up until now, he hadn't quite noticed but it was easy to ignore crowds, passing voices, in favor of the one before him. The moment Junhui goes quiet, it's ridiculously deafening.

"Do you want that?" Wonwoo puts it out there and looks elsewhere, anywhere, like the tree above them shaking. "To seal away your magic?"

He hears Junhui slide his palms over each other.

"If I said yes." _Would you?_

Wonwoo waits, starts when Junhui doesn't. "It's your choice."

"I don't." 

Wonwoo lets him keep his secrets as Junhui calls over for the bill. The food was good, the sun pretty, and the conversation was over.

Junhui makes them take a walk before he has to go to work.

("Knowing you," Junhui spins around, taking a small bounce as he faces Wonwoo, "you'll just crawl back to your kitchen and read, or work, or whatever like a stuffy teddy bear."

"And what's wrong with a teddy bear staying indoors?" He crosses his arms.

"Because you're not a metaphor and you shouldn't act like one." Junhui spins away, ending yet another conversation, and points at the herb resting in a shop window. "Now tell me about this little guy. I see him all over your papers recently."

Of course Wonwoo does,) as he is apt to always do nowadays.

-

"Junhui."

"Hmm?"

"There's nothing wrong with having a leech." Wonwoo takes his glasses off and stares at the moon about to take its leave from the sky. He tries to not worry much about it. He'll be back soon enough. "It's like a balance of nature. You felt good until you didn't."

Junhui makes a noise of agreement and turns the page of the monster book he'd gotten from Mingyu who'd gotten it from Soonyoung who'd gotten it from one of the kids he babysitted. Off track but again, Wonwoo isn't worrying. _Not at all._

"I did nicer than normal, I think." Junhui says this offhandedly, eyes still locked on some illustration of a shrouded basement dweller that takes the whole two page spread.

"What matters is the leech exploded."

"Is this that strong belief or thought you were talking about?" His eyebrows twist. He most definitely isn't going to look at him. "It's not supposed to happen? Ever?"

"Balance." Wonwoo says lowly. "Sometimes, leeches are good. I've done a few operations that required this specific use."

Junhui shuts the book softly. "I figured out how I'll spend today's day off. I'll visit Minghao, come back in the morning."

"Junhui."

The man pauses at the door.

"But it's also not your fault."

"Thanks, Wonwoo." 

He waves and then he's out the door.

-

Junhui walks back in ten minutes later. Wonwoo is two books deep and wouldn't have surfaced for anything else.

Junhui grips his book tightly in one hand, the other on the door frame.

He breathes deeply with his eyes closed. 

"Don't ever sugarcoat things with me. I want you to be direct."

Wonwoo nods, eyes never leaving his face.

"You're an awful liar, Junhui, and you need to stop."

Junhui nods back, thanks him, and leaves once more.

-

It's raining.

Harsh patters strike the roof and the window. It seems the wind is swaying too.

It's not an awful day to be going out though, even Wonwoo considers it. It's a wonderful cold.

However, there is absolutely one person who shouldn't be leaving in this weather so he catches him when he passes by the kitchen table on the way out.

Junhui stops and smiles, confused.

"You can't go out in that."

"Uh, you're the one who said it's nice out today."

"No- Yes, I mean- it's actually bad for you. You'll get a leech in this."

Junhui walks a little closer, enough that Wonwoo lets go. He's put off in a relaxed sort of way, like _"what an inconvenience !"_

"What, so then what do I do ? Avoid the rain forever ?" _Inconvenience. That's really what magic is._

Out loud, Wonwoo says, "I'll teach you something. I just need to gather a few things."

Junhui follows him to the little storage area he has in the hallway. Cold, positively damp, it's a magicked broom closet between the bathroom and his bedroom.

"Something ? Like a spell ? I'm learning magic ?" The questions ping off him like pebbles against the frame of Wonwoo's mind.

The bottles he's looking for are high so he stretches to make sure he doesn't drop them. They hold herbs, either dry and crunchy or soft and delicate. Rather than the cold being necessary for expiration reasons, Wonwoo had run out of storage and couldn't be assed to actually figure out a place. 

(They stayed in temperature-controlled glass, just a perk of never spending his funds on anything but professional laziness.)

A few soft clinks later, they rest in his palms and he gives them to Junhui but has to catch his attention since he was looking away.

Wonwoo then reaches for the small cauldron resting on the floor, adds a few more large bottles of liquid and stands with it properly in his arms. "Now we'll have to set up the living room."

Junhui follows his directions quickly, moving the living room table, flipping the large carpet over, and sweeping while Wonwoo looks for the specific recipe they need in his endless boxes of cards. 

"What are you teaching me?" He asks after he finishes and sits at the table.

"A simple spell. We'll prepare it and then you'll be able to summon it at your pleasure." Wonwoo flicks once more through the box _it should be in_ and goes back to the box he'd been in the middle of. "The practice will be good for your core so it'll be used to cycling its own power and more likely to reject leeches. Ah." Wonwoo finally finds it misplaced in the flower tricks section, between petal avalanches and lightning blossoms. "You'll like it. You'll just have to say the spell every time but we'll get to the point where you can shorten it."

Junhui lifts his head from his hand, where he's been watching Wonwoo's fingers sharply work. "It's not dangerous, is it?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"You said we, so I thought- No, nevermind." Junhui leaves his chair once Wonwoo's already taken a couple steps. "Just thought you'd have to be there or something."

"Keywords. We-" _Wonwoo, elaborate._ "You'll come up with a word and I'll attach it to the spell."

Wonwoo turns the burner on and silently, Junhui watches him follow the card's instructions. He fidgets however, fingers clasping around the edge of a book he's left on the couch behind him. He messes with the edges, leaves nail marks on _hopefully_ pages he owns.

It's Junhui's own anxiety so Wonwoo doesn't say anything about it _(doesn't know if there are words and if they belong to him)._

Once he gets to an agreeable part of the potion, one where it couldn't possibly fail because of so-and-so, he finally lifts himself from the cauldron. While he wipes his glasses of the condensation, he addresses Junhui.

"Stop pulling on the collar. You're going to stretch it even more." _But what if I do it wrong?_ "You're going to be fine."

It's not the best thing to say probably but it's true and right now, it's all Wonwoo has.

Wonwoo takes in Junhui finally, openly. 

Worry has creased itself into every line of Junhui's body. His eyes are tense, his fingers stiff, and he hasn't moved an inch since picking up his book.

It's cliché to say such things, _acknowledge his own worry,_ but more than that, it's cliché to say Junhui looks like a ghost is haunting him. It draws over him, leaning on broad shoulders, bending his back until Wonwoo has to dip slightly even from his usual hunched posture to catch his eye.

Wonwoo looks at that ghost, blue eyes and red eyes, a purplish tint that poisons everyone around it.

God, he wants to punch it in the face. Soak it in salt. Watch it burn.

Junhui moves to bite his thumbnail and stops at Wonwoo's fingers to his wrist. Wonwoo puts the recipe card in his hand.

"It's like cooking." Wonwoo stirs the cauldron once more. Even if Wonwoo doesn't take himself so seriously, his work he absolutely does. Even this, as sudden as it and as relaxed as it's supposed to be, is important. 

With rain beating the roof and only the light of the burner and a few lamp lights to guide him, hauntingly like some of the worst nights his patients have experienced, he continues.

"You can be a chef or-" He sprinkles a little salt into the bubbling mixture, "-if it's better, you can pretend like you're an evil, spoopy witch."

A quick snort escapes Junhui's mouth. Wonwoo smiles too, knowing fully well stupid jokes handled his cold-world persona perfectly. _You're ridiculous._

"Is this what you do? When you have a patient?" Junhui is tracing patterns on his skin. A square, perfectly normal and perfectly strange.

Wonwoo turns the burner off, takes Junhui's hand and places the stirrer in it. "Yes."

Junhui mixes silently. Large and slow circles, he dips deep just to scrape the bottom.

"Although, usually I sign a contract with patients." Wonwoo slides his glasses up, blinking. "If you'd like, we've come a bit far now but we can retrace our steps."

Junhui most definitely tries not to react. His large circles become even wider, clanking the edges of the pot. His ears turn red. Wonwoo expects so he watches.

"You're awful." _The first thunder clap._

"Truly awful. You can't mess with your patients like that."

"I don't." _Rainfall._

"Funny."

_Lighting._

“What am I then?"

Outside, the rain still patters. Nothing really changes. Wonwoo chooses his words carefully, throws it out carelessly.

"Anything you want to be." 

It strikes a little too close to home.

For the past two weeks since that lunch and to now, Junhui's been avoiding him. He knew it the first night after, when Junhui cooked and left the food to be reheated.

("Food should be eaten hot and fresh. There's nothing better !" A rather strong lie. Wonwoo had felt his heart beat at that one.

What sort of lie was it? How does Junhui even lie about something so important to him?)

It's ebbed a bit since then, and actually eats breakfast with him recently, but... Wonwoo was a bit surprised Junhui accepted such an ambiguous request so easily.

"Dangerous." Junhui puts a hand on his chest with a mock of surprise. 

_It's the truth._

They leave the question of who Junhui is unanswered and get to the spell. 

Truly, without exaggeration, a child could do it. Wonwoo deeply contemplates his next words.

"Chill."

"Chill?"

"That is the lingo these days, yes?"

"These days, are you ninety ?"

Wonwoo lets Junhui ramble, smoothing out the herbs they need and flipping the card over. "Scoot back."

Junhui obediently concentrates and sprinkles every herb in, stirs twice, and they wait for a minute. The mixture bubbles hot even with the burner off. Something seems to burn internally, rising and falling and making more _self_ just to consume it _self._

When the bright blue turns bright orange from the inside and up, Wonwoo taps the recipe. "Go ahead, say the spell."

Junhui grips the card once more, tightly between both hands.

"( **use your imagination, i beg of you** )"

There's silence as Wonwoo scoots back a little more, a safety measure and takes Junhui with him.

Then a tiny and orange spark emerges from the center of the potion.

All at once, it boils with large bubbles surfacing. Junhui gasps suddenly as they pop, sending more sparks into the air.

The flares flutter above the cauldron, collecting and forming until a little bird takes shape. It soars, circling and crying out with yellow and burning sparkles.

"Not near the couch, please." Wonwoo scolds as the bird, still forming its tail and long feathers, explores.

"It's..." Wonwoo looks at Junhui, eyes glued with a hand postured near his mouth. Light bounces off his cheeks and flickers brighter in his eyes. It's been a while since Wonwoo's seen a spell like this. Whenever he looks up nowadays, it's only ever shadows haunting the walls. "It's so pretty."

"I'm not sure if that book you read held descriptions of it but-" The bird soars high once it tires of its closer surroundings so he eyes it. It flutters lower. "...I thought it might interest you."

The bird lands on the edge of the cauldron and takes a firm look at Junhui. He smiles and wiggles his fingers "hello."

"It's wonderful. I can summon this guy whenever?" Junhui's words sound simple but Wonwoo wonders if that's just his version of starstruck, or not of shock but instead warm pleasure.

"Yes, you'll need a flame to light it however." 

"I guess I'll be carrying matches from now on then." Junhui giggles into his hand so it echoes into the space between them.

"I'll teach you another spell. Light a fire without carrying anything."

"Sure."

Simplicity's sake, from fireworks, a fire dying in the sky, a phoenix rises.

Wonwoo wonders if his train of thoughts really make sense.

"I wasn't joking when I said it was easy." Wonwoo claps along when Junhui cheers the mystical feathers' rises to perform its first sharp dip. "This is a child's first project."

"You're very insulting when you say things like that." At least, the ghost isn't visible at the moment.

Wonwoo keeps his eyes on the phoenix, flames vanishing from its tail slowly. "Add more if you want to keep watching."

Wonwoo waits a few minutes before he asks.

"Why were you so nervous about this?"

"I remember it- that- uhm, it.." Junhui whispers quietly. "I remember it coming from my throat so I- guess I got caught up in that.." He brings his knees up and rests his forearms and chin there. "I thought magic was all like that."

_Fuck, fuck. Wonwoo should've realized that._

"It depends." Junhui looks at him in a terrible way. "We should get you gloves."

"For what?"

"Your phoenix friend."

His nose wrinkles. "Is this like, some kind of eagle thing where he lands on my arm and we're best friends?"

Wonwoo pushes his glasses up. "Of course."

Junhui snorts again and turns his head to look at the bird grooming itself on the cauldron.

Wonwoo continues quietly, eyes set the same as his are. "You should tell me next time, about that." Junhui looks at him again. "Tell me about anything." Wonwoo clasps his hands together in his lap. "I'm just a doctor who deals with magic. What happens after that- It's not my field of expertise."

The phoenix peeks his head from under his wing and regards Wonwoo with a look. It's not something he can guess at, after all this is an entirely different creature, even one born from another's soul. 

But it's innocent. Curious. Wide eyes and open expressions.

The phoenix lifts its wings and makes its way straight over, surprising Junhui into a gasp as it circles near enough for heat to lick their cheeks. Wonwoo tsks lightly and the bird lands elegantly on his outstretched arm.

"Wonwoo- ?"

"I won't burn." 

The phoenix leans in as if inspecting his face. Wonwoo peers at it too. 

Then it looks at Junhui. Wonwoo doesn't follow.

He feels a quick pat to his arm, though it _feels_ like a large and weak slap.

"Are you being awkward with me?" Junhui giggles in a way Wonwoo hasn't heard before. He mumbles deep in his throat like an echoing scratch of _something, something_. 

Junhui sighs and continues speaking like that. "Yeah, uh, yes. You're right. I will.

"But you have to tell me then. When I get like that. Then I'll tell you." Junhui nods to himself, a finger pushed against his bottom lip like tasting the words slowly.

"We can trade. Thoughts, I mean. When that happens." Wonwoo says quickly.

The phoenix chirps (warbles? _warbles_ ) a high and soft tune, rising as high as it can, even flapping its wings wide. Then it rubs its head against his arm. Wonwoo gives it a pet.

Junhui huffs a laugh and finally, Wonwoo looks at him. 

He's lit gently in the flames of the bird and the still glowing cauldron. His features, usually either sleeping or expressive, are tinted in how _thoughts_ feel like to Wonwoo. 

_Thoughts_ are like the whimsy of ghosts. One can't explain them, can't even believe in them eighty-seven percent of the time. They grasp and cry and leave without a hint of remorse, yet they come back all the same and dance without a care for the time or place.

Wonwoo considers them his best friends. And he desires ever so dearly to hold each and every one as much they required.

Maybe he did it right this time.

Junhui shifts his eyes to him, lifts an eyebrow and a smirk. "I should tell you," Wonwoo speaks as softly as he did but there's far more gravel in his own voice, "that the creatures you create respond to your emotions."

Junhui's eyes flash wide. "Uh, you mean- that- this little guy-"

"Yes. He responded very enthusiastically to my offer. I assume you enjoyed it as well."

"Oh my god, stop talking like that." Junhui hides his face in his knees, voice warbling and muffled. "How the fuck do you just talk like that?"

"... I require a yes or a no."

"Yes ! Shut up !"

"Cool."

Junhui strikes at him again several times. He exhales long and sharp like a ghoul while doing so, red ears, averted eyes, and a voice that breaks into laughter when Wonwoo breaks and laughs back and defends himself. 

Wonwoo raises the phoenix high in the air since it refuses to leave his arm, warbling and flapping (and now _chirping_ ) as chaotic as Junhui is.

It's a good day, somehow much better than the sky storming outside is. It rains the rest of the day and most of night. It's truly plenty of time to teach Junhui to light his own fire but the phoenix chooses to fly away from him then and recklessly towards _anywhere._

Wonwoo resists throwing a look at Junhui and instead gets up after the bird, shooing him from nearly everything. _“It's all flammable, stop it Junhui, please? Please?"_

And the time disappears all away with Junhui's mirth and Cheshire Cat antics coming to life once again.

-

Junhui stops avoiding him.

It's better, _a lot better,_ but some moments, it feels like nothing's changed.

He isn't sure that's the kind of thing Junhui meant he should mention.

Perhaps they aren't on the same page but they're now reading the same book. Maybe they aren't in different countries but rather the same house.

But of all the metaphors Wonwoo has to offer, he wonders if people are ever meant to read the same paragraph.

Wonwoo closes his medical book for the night, with Junhui knocked out on the couch curled deeply into the corners far from the light. 

When he turns out his lamp and heads to bed, there is no light for the darkness to swallow.

-

(Wonwoo buys Junhui's gloves a few days later. 

It fits so poorly Junhui laughs his ass off crazily, having to hang off Wonwoo in attempts to stay upright.

"This is so good. I could probably give this to a middle schooler and it'd fit perfectly."

Wonwoo pushes his glasses up and puts a hand on Junhui's shoulder when he starts straight laughing into Wonwoo. He shakes him so hard he nearly drags him down as well.

"In retrospect, I admit I shouldn't have picked it up without thinking."

But this is good. It's nice. Junhui's reaction is nice. He'll probably skip to Minghao later and fold himself into their couch and his lap, gesturing and exaggerating the story with far more cheer than he's laughing with now.

Good. Minghao would appreciate that.

"Let's set a time. Take the hands that they're _supposed_ to go on, alright Doc?"

"Coolio."

Wonwoo takes them the rest of the way home, feeling oddly drunk like the innumerable business men he's seen on his past nights finding his way home alone.

Is this what people who have friends feel like? Is this what they do? It's nice. It's good.

Wonwoo feels good.)

-

With grace and dignity, with the permanence of the afternoon moon, so ends page four.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see you again if i feel to update !  
> (´•ω•｀)♡


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